


love me

by rosehale



Category: Actor RPF, American Actor RPF, Norman Reedus - Fandom, The Walking Dead RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Wall Sex, please send help for i have sinned, pretty much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:25:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5148506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosehale/pseuds/rosehale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You meet Norman at a bar after work and he's wearing a particularly delicious leather jacket.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love me

**Author's Note:**

> blame judas!norman from lady gaga's video for this. damn you.
> 
> (i'm sorry mother)

You watch him from the bar, the smooth cocktail glass a reassuring weight in your hand as you wait for him to spot you. Though he may not have found you in the crowd yet, plenty of other people have found him, you watch the admiring gazes from women and men alike with a smug feeling curling in your stomach, sipping your drink. The leather jacket he's wearing, a definite sign he's ridden his motorbike here, gives him a bulk and a harshness that might not necessarily be there usually, and you smile at the sight of a tough seeming Norman. Tonight, you let yourself indulge in the fantasy as he finally catches a glance of you, a girl already prowling across the dance floor towards him, and he begins to smile, a quick flicker as he raises a hand. The girl is never noticed and you feel a flash of sympathy before he's arriving before you, taking the delicate glass from your hand to finish it in a few mouthfuls, resting it back on the bar, nodding to the bartender to catch his attention. He pulls the back of his hand across his mouth while he waits for the man to make his way over.

'Sorry, long day, needed that.'

He orders a beer, looking to you with eyebrows quirked in question, and you hold up two fingers, make it a double. The bartender grins and turns away, Norman's hand finding your hip before he returns, sliding the bottles across the sticky wood. You move to where your bag rests on the stool you're standing next to, but Norman is already fishing his wallet from his jean's pocket.

'Don't, I got it.'

You open your mouth to protest, but the argument is so familiar to you now after all these years that you let it go, taking one of the beers and taking a swig. You don't miss Norman watching the way your mouth curls around the glass. He steps closer, the leather of his jacket rustling against the fabric of your dress, and you can feel the heat of his body as his stomach presses to yours, his eyes heavy lidded. You brush your knuckles over his jaw.

'How was your day?'

He shrugs, somehow using the movement to get even closer, crowding you up against the bar, smelling of sweat and gasoline and beer and _him_.

'Long, tiring.'

Your curl a finger into the worn material of his t-shirt.

'Wanna just go home then?'

He smirks, so close you have to tilt your head back to be able to meet his eyes, 'Not yet, baby.'

Your fingertips find the warmth of his collarbones, thumb brushing over the jut where they meet, 'No?'

He smiles around the lip of his beer bottle, throat working as he swallows, shaking his head lazily when he puts his drink down. Your mouth goes dry.

The music changes and you knock your hips against Norman's, swaying slowly, the second drinks effects beginning to ebb through your veins. His hand wraps around the back of your neck, holding you steady as you roll gently against him. He licks his lips, the pink skin left glistening, begging to be kissed and he knows it. You dance languidly against him as he finishes his beer, his hand dropping down to the base of your spine where he holds you tight against him, watching every movement with dark eyes.

'Wanna take the bike home?' He murmurs, lips brushing against your ear, but you laugh, resting palms flat on his chest to push him back.

'No way, kiddo. 'm not planning on dying tonight.'

He pouts, wrapping his hand around yours where it rests over his heart, 'You wound me.'

You scoff.

'How're you gonna get home then?' He asks, concern furrowing his brow, but you wave away his worry.

'I'll just call a cab, probably get home while they're still scraping you off the road.'

'That's a gross exaggeration.'

You arch an eyebrow, 'Is it?'

He pauses, twirling his fingers in your hair, leaning so that your noses almost brush.

'What if I can't wait that long?'

You feel the breath in his chest shudder as you slip your fingers into the waistband of his jeans, 'I guess you'll just have to suffer, anticipation is the best part.'

He shakes his head, 'No, no it's not.'

'You got any other ideas?'

'There's an alley out the back.'

You laugh loud, stepping back from him, withdrawing your touch from his body and feeling the absence as much as he does judging from the downturn of his mouth.

'Please, we're not in our twenties anymore.'

He tugs on your hand, 'No one would know.'

'Norm, I'm not young enough to be thrown up against a brick wall anymore. A comfy bed will do just fine.'

'I'll be so distracted on the way home I might really die.'

You unlace your fingers from his, patting his chest and beginning to step away from the bar, grabbing your clutch.

'We can only hope.'

You disappear into the crowd, glancing over your shouter to see him still watching you, a smile curving lazily as he lets himself admire. In leather and his hair messy, beer on his breath, he looks dangerous and ravishing and your stomach tingles with the idea of soon having him stretched out in your bed.

He beats you home, probably from taking stupid risks and speeding around corners, and he's waiting out the front as you pay the cabbie, leaning on his bike, wind rustling through his hair, his helmet dangling from one hand.

'Beat you,' he murmurs as you walk towards him, dropping the helmet onto the seat, and you bite down on your lower lip as he lounges against the motorcycle, eyes hooded while he watches your every movement. You make a sound in agreement, unable to think of anything to say, not with this scene being presented in front of you, and he stands, following you up to the door where you begin to search through your clutch for the key. He produces his own without a word, dangling from the key ring he'd used for his bike. You take it, fingers brushing over his.

'Thank you.'

It feels like the first date again, with his form hovering behind you, breath whispering over your skin, the promise of what's to come dangling in the air. You make it two steps inside before he's on you, gathering you up against the wall, your bag hitting the floor after your hand opens in surprise.

'Oh,' you breathe, letting him lift you up, guide your legs to wrap around his waist, supported by him and the wall.

'Plaster wall better than brick?' He asks, and you twist a hand into his hair, kiss at his jaw.

'Marginally.'

He mouths at your neck, pulls at your dress to lick over your shoulder, big hands smoothing over your breasts and down your hips.

'How was the anticipation?' You ask, ending on a gasp as he finds the zipper of your dress and it crumples around your waist, pushed up from your thighs as Norman's palm slips under your bra.

'Horrible,' he grumbles, voice rough as his knee nudges between your thighs, sending fire up to curl in your belly, 'This is much better.'

'Understandable,' you whisper, stretching your neck for him to kiss down from your ear, shifting you in his grip so that his fingers can brush up the inside of your thigh and into your underwear. Your hands tighten in his hair, mouth opening and breaking the kiss, leaning your head back against the wall. He chuckles, the vibration of the caught laugh making you shiver as he noses at your collarbones, tongue lazing over your skin. His hips begin to roll against you as his fingers curl and you begin to shake, and you wonder if he's even noticing the steady movements, the instinct to search for friction speeding through his brain. You tug hard on the hair at the back of his neck to slow him, kissing just below his eye.

'Okay, okay, 'm ready now.'

He nods, snapping your bra open and helping you wriggle from the straps, discarding it on the floor.

'Here?' He wonders as you shove off his jacket and his t-shirt soon follows suit, the clicking of his belt beneath your hands music to your ears.

'Yeah, yeah, here,' you pant, pushing closer, unsure if you can even wait any longer, a serious concern zipping through your mind of the possibility that you might just burst into flames, heat pounding through your system.

'Alright, lemme just,' he braces you with an arm as he fumbles in his wallet for a condom, one of your legs dropping from his waist to support yourself, the floor cool underfoot as he rips the packaging with his teeth. You grin at the showing off. There's a warmth to his face as you return to your position, a glow that you revel under while he licks over a blooming mark he's left on your neck. He sinks into you with a contented sigh, fingers pressing into where he grips you, mouth at your shoulder.

'Okay?' He asks, voice hoarse and thick, and you nod, resting your forehead against his, eyes fluttering closed as he finds a rhythm, hips cradling yours. He finds a strange pattern of curses and your name, and you knot your fingers in his hair, drop your head back as he leans down to rest on your shoulder, nipping and licking at your neck. You were almost there beforehand, forgetting to breathe as white pops behind your eyes and a rush of heat blooms through you, Norman following suit as you cling to him, tasting the sweat on his skin, groaning into your mouth, jaw slack and eyes squeezed close, a garbled gasp of his name leaving your lips.

You shine in the afterglow, tucked into his neck as you drift fingertips over his back, waiting for his nerves to release and allow him to move again. He kisses down your face as he pulls out, smiling at your whine at the loss of contact, and he waits with a hand at your hip as your shaky legs find the floor again. He kisses at your lower lip, licks into your mouth messy and sweet.

'Meet you in the bedroom.'

You nod, kiss the indent of bone and muscle in his shoulder, and then move naked through the dark house, folding yourself into the bed. He comes blurry through the door moments later, jeans unbuttoned and loose where he's hauled them back up around his hips, the mattress sinking with his weight as he sits to unlace his boots he never had a chance to take off. You watch with heavy eyes, reaching when he slips beneath the sheets, adjusting his frame to your body with the ease of having done it a thousand times. You fall asleep to the sound of him breathing and the smell of him enveloping, wrapped in his safety.


End file.
